


Stock-full of expectations

by ToxicPineapple



Series: Femslash February 2020 [20]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: (That's the prompt), Akane has a sad backstory, F/F, Femslash February, First Meetings, In which Sonia and Akane meet before attending Hope's Peak, Perform, Poverty, Pre-Canon, Pre-Hope's Peak Academy, Talking about being poor, ft. my loose interpretations of these prompts, y'know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:02:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22643803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicPineapple/pseuds/ToxicPineapple
Summary: Anyway, Akane is unnerved by how very clean everything is. When she starts walking again she passes by neatly manicured lawns, smelling fresh cut grass and pesticides. The houses are clean and the cars in the driveways are shiny, new, and expensive looking. Akane can’t even put into perspective how much food she could buy, selling one of those cars. It’s pretty insane.She feels out of her element but not resentful. Part of it is just that Akane has never had the energy nor the desire to hate people who are more fortunate than she is, but she’s also just never really interacted with them before. It’s like being in an entirely different universe. No point comparing their lives; they’re so different, there’d be nothing to compare.---Akane ditches a gymnastics tournament and meets someone from another universe.
Relationships: Sonia Nevermind/Owari Akane
Series: Femslash February 2020 [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1616182
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	Stock-full of expectations

**Author's Note:**

> written for femlash february day twenty! the prompt is "perform"
> 
> nothing is explicitly stated in this piece but akane's past contains sexual abuse and poverty and there are heavy implications. be careful.

Akane supposes that she should feel at least a little bit guilty.

Her coach (a tall, faceless man) has been trying so hard to train her for this competition for ages. He keeps saying these things like,  _ You have so much potential,  _ and  _ You perform so well when you focus,  _ and it’s not that Akane can’t focus? She just doesn’t see a reason to. There are more interesting things to be focusing on. Hell, she knows on some level that the contest is important, but why should she give a shit? Getting food in her belly is much more of a priority. She hates being hungry. And sure, exercising is great. Fighting is great. She lives for that. But gymnastics are dull and so are the people who try to get her to do them.

Regardless, she should probably feel bad. Because when it’s her turn to go on stage and do the routine, the routine that her coach took her through, painstakingly, for hours at a time, in an attempt to get her to memorise it, Akane takes one look at the stage, at the padded floor, and thinks,  _ screw this. I don’t want to be here.  _ And when Akane doesn’t want to do something, there’s nothing that could make her do it. She’s not some fucking performance animal. She’s never given a shit about this performance anyway.

So she grabs her jacket, steps into her shoes, and turns and walks away. Dimly she registers people trying to stop her (tall, faceless men, the whole lot of them) but a couple well-placed elbows to the gut get them to back off, and when she gets out of the building, out of the suffocating heat of the space, she breaks into a run.

It’s late autumn, getting closer to winter by now, and there’s a bite in the air. The streets and the buildings are all varying shades of grey. It smells like rain despite the fact that there’s only a slight drizzle. Mud splashes onto her ankle when she steps in a puddle, but Akane pays it no mind. She likes the rain, the muddiness. It sprays her hot forehead and brings her a kind of clarity that she doesn’t get when there are other people around.

She’s really hungry, but leaving so abruptly meant she forgot her wallet. Whatever. She’ll grab a bite later, find some (tall, faceless) man who will give her something. It’s degrading, but Akane doesn’t care. It would be a blow to her pride if she had any. Of course, if she had any pride, she probably wouldn’t have just run from the competition.

Despite the ache beginning to form in her lungs, Akane finds herself chuckling. Her coach is gonna be pissed. His face gets all red when he yells. Akane likes counting the veins that pop out in his forehead. She’s not afraid of him. If she wanted to, she could probably break him in half. So she doesn’t see much of a reason to care about what his opinions are.

When Akane opens her eyes again, or rather starts paying more attention to her surroundings, she realises that she’s come out of the more metropolitan area of Tokyo and entered a more wealthy area. She hadn’t noticed the buildings changing from skyscrapers to houses-- or mansions, rather-- but it’s such a far cry from what she’s used to that Akane stops in her tracks.

She’s been inside a mansion once, that she can remember. She had won a golden metal at some gymnastics competition back in elementary and she was invited to a party afterwards. The food was incredible, but it was so rich that when she returned home to her  _ own  _ neighbourhood, she threw it all up. Akane figures the solution to that kind of situation would be to take her food in moderation, but eh. She’s never been that kind of a person. She goes for all or nothing. She has to, to survive.

Anyway, Akane is unnerved by how very clean everything is. When she starts walking again she passes by neatly manicured lawns, smelling fresh cut grass and pesticides. The houses are clean and the cars in the driveways are shiny, new, and expensive looking. Akane can’t even put into perspective how much food she could buy, selling one of those cars. It’s pretty insane.

She feels out of her element but not resentful. Part of it is just that Akane has never had the energy nor the desire to hate people who are more fortunate than she is, but she’s also just never really interacted with them before. It’s like being in an entirely different universe. No point comparing their lives; they’re so different, there’d be nothing to compare. Akane tucks her hands in the pockets of her jacket. They offered her a new one, a fancy jacket with her name on the back, but she prefers this one. It’s threadbare, yeah, and smells a bit like cigarette smoke, but it’s comforting in its familiarity. New clothing smells like plastic.

And to be honest? She doesn’t want to accept their gifts unless they come bearing food.

It’s still raining, but it’s starting to peter out. Akane lifts her palm up towards the sky, catching a few stray droplets of water and rubbing her forehead. Her fingers are cold, but she feels okay. The cold probably won’t settle in until she goes somewhere warmer.

Lowering her gaze, Akane glances off to her right, and then stops walking, because there’s someone sitting outside of one of the houses, at the top of the stairs coming down from the porch. Her gaze is fixed on Akane, but it’s not hostile, merely inquisitive. Akane regards her warily, but relaxes after a moment. Their eyes are both grey. Though the girl is white, as in European, most likely, and Akane certainly isn’t. (Also, her hair is pale blonde and her eyes are pale too, whereas Akane’s are slate grey.)

Weird that some white girl would be living in this neighbourhood. Maybe she’s a diplomat. Akane watches her for another long moment. She’s very pretty. Her hair is done in a very elaborate, very  _ European  _ looking plait. From the way she’s just staring back, Akane isn’t sure if this girl speaks Japanese. She’s about to open her mouth and find out, but then the girl speaks up.

“Hello,” she says, in Japanese. Her pronunciation is good, but she does have an accent. Akane doesn’t recognise it. She knows what American accents and English accents sound like from watching the news, but hers is unfamiliar. Pleasant, though. Mild. “Are you alright?”

“Huh? Uh, yeah, sure, I’m fine,” Akane scratches the back of her neck, embarrassed that her manner caused this girl to believe she needs help. She probably looks a bit out of place in a neighbourhood like this. Not a lot of dark-skinned Japanese people here to begin with, and of course this stranger is paler than a sheet of paper. “Do you like sitting out in the rain?”   
  


“Hm? Oh, yes,” the girl smiles brightly, and if she finds being asked this question by a stranger to be a weird thing, she doesn’t say so. “It doesn’t rain a lot in my country, you see, so I’m enjoying the weather.”

“Your country?” Akane asks, raising her eyebrows and tilting her head to the side. She knew the girl was foreign, of course, but she figures she might as well ask anyway. “Thought you had an accent, where’re you from?”

Looking mildly bemused, the girl replies, “I come from the Novoselic kingdom in Europe.” After a beat, she adds, “Have you not heard of it? My advisor says we’ve been on the news recently.”

Advisor? Sheesh. What kinda royal bullshit? Akane grins. “Sorry, Princess, I don’t really watch the news.”

“Hmmm.” Rather than looking offended, the girl offers her a tiny smile of her own. “You might find that there are perks to doing so.”

“Sure,” Akane replies. “It’s a bit of a circus though, isn’t it? That footage is all doctored.” The contest she won in elementary was all over the news, for example, and they had chosen only the best clips. The ones that painted her as a hardworking, devoted gymnast. Not a hungry girl with an angry streak. Akane stopped watching after that. “I have to perform enough on a day-to-day, I could give less of a shit about what those guys have to say.”

“I can respect that,” the girl replies lightly, and once again, if she’s offended by Akane’s use of language, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she scoots over on the step, gesturing at the spot next to her. “Would you care to sit down for a while? I’ve been rather bored since coming here, too many logistics to work out and I haven’t been able to go into town because… well, anyway. It won’t matter come April.”

“Doing some kinda exchange program?” Akane inquires, mounting the stairs and taking her seat next to the girl. She’s still wearing the leggings and shirt of her gymnastics uniform. It makes her feel uncharacteristically self conscious, so she begins buttoning her jacket.

“Something like that,” says the girl. “I’ve been accepted into Hope’s Peak Academy.”

Akane has heard the name before. “Fancy. You must be real talented; what’d you get selected for?”

“For someone who doesn’t watch the news, you seem to be familiar with Hope’s Peak,” the girl remarks with an amused smile. Akane shrugs.

“I pay attention sometimes.” She leaves it there, and the girl doesn’t ask her to elaborate.

“The Ultimate Princess-- what a flashy title, isn’t it?”

“Oh, I thought I was being real sarcastic when I called you that before,” Akane raises her eyebrows. “You’re honest-to-goodness royalty, huh?”

“Well, don’t let it affect how you were talking to me before,” the girl pouts a bit. “I’m hardly much to behold, just a normal teenager like you.”

“Huh.” Akane considers the statement. “Okay, what’s your name, then?”

“Sonia Nevermind,” she smiles. “You’re welcome to just call me Sonia, though. That’s how they do it in my country. I think being called Nevermind would be a bit cutting for me.”

“Sonia, got it.” Akane nods.

“And what’s yours?” Sonia inquires, and Akane thinks,  _ fair enough, Princess. _

“Akane Owari. Er-- most people call me Owari, but if it makes you more comfortable, I don’t mind if you--”

“Owari is fine for now,” says Sonia with a smile. “I fully intend to respect the customs here. Japan is a very lovely country, isn’t it?”

“Sure,” Akane agrees, despite not really thinking so. Japan has got plenty of picturesque places. Temples and stuff. If Akane was the kind of person to care, she might be real interested. But quite frankly, she’s never had time to enjoy the scenery here. The parts of Japan that she’s been exposed to have been full of tall faceless men who give her the things she needs if she does the things that they want and they haven’t been lovely, not at all. Still, no point saying that to Sonia. It’s a harmless statement from a person who would have no way of understanding any of that.

Again, like stepping into another universe. No point building resentments when they’re almost completely different species.

“Say, Princess,” Akane speaks again, wanting desperately to change the subject for some reason, despite the fact that it was only a throwaway remark on Sonia’s part. “What’re you doing at a permanent residence like this? I guess you’re waiting here until term starts, but wouldn’t a hotel be just fine?”

“I thought so too. It’s lavish, isn’t it? I imagine it’s nothing that the average Japanese citizen is privy to.” The remark takes Akane off her guard. Sonia’s gaze is fixed on the overhang of the house they sit before, but her expression is shrewd. “We were provided this house by the Japanese embassy. I hate it, I’d love to take a trip to Harajuku, or somewhere more populated. The most I’ve done here has been to study, or watch servants mow lawns.”

She certainly seems bored. Akane appraises her for a long moment, and then stands up. She offers Sonia a hand. “Well, I can’t promise Harajuku, but I can take you somewhere a bit more interesting than this if you want.”

“Oh?” Sonia looks up at her. She doesn’t seem wary, per se, but hesitant, and from the way her water-clear grey eyes flicker back to the house, it seems as though her hesitance is less to do with Akane herself and more to do with whoever is in there. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t-- well,” she pauses. “I suppose you have little to lose.”

“Uh-huh.” Akane grins. She’s already in trouble, anyway, though she won’t tell Sonia that unless she asks. “And I bet you have plenty, right?” Sonia’s nod comes on slowly, accompanied by a reluctant frown. “Hey, listen. I don’t know much about this princess gig, but it probably comes stock-full of expectations, right? Just like it will when you’re at the academy in April. I know the feeling,” she adds before Sonia can interject. A raise of the princess’ eyebrows is the only real response she receives. “Usually when I feel overwhelmed, I just take off. Who’re you performing for, anyway? Who’s gonna care? Is their opinion of you more important than your own?”

“Well, in some cases it’s my kingdom’s opinion,” Sonia begins halfheartedly. “And in which case my own opinion hardly means anything at all.”

  
“Okay, well, is your kingdom gonna judge you for a little bit of sight-seeing, Princess?” Akane asks. Sonia doesn’t seem to have a response to that. “I don’t wanna pressure you, since I’m essentially a stranger, but--”

Sonia reaches up and takes her hand, which Akane hadn’t realised was still extended. With a remarkable amount of strength, Sonia hoists herself up, giving Akane’s hand a tight squeeze before she pulls away. “Alright, then,” she says. “But I expect to be impressed.” Her tone exudes authority. In people who are telling her what to do, Akane hates that tone. But from Sonia it is endearing.

“Well, guess I’d better not pull any punches.” Akane grins.

(At the end of the day, Akane drops her back off at the house, and as Sonia is rushed inside by worried advisors, she calls out,  _ I hope I see you again!  _ Akane isn’t betting on it, really, until the last week of March when an envelope shows up at her house with the words Hope’s Peak Academy written neatly in black. Ultimate Gymnast. Guess some of that performing paid off.)

**Author's Note:**

> i was like... i'll write akane. it'll be subversive. and then it was just more of sonia and akane because apparently sonia is the only one i ship her with
> 
> also the way akane talks? fuck i want her to throw me. never gonna forgive this fandom for being nasty
> 
> also the "another universe" thing is metaphor and i think that was pretty obvious but just in case
> 
> love these ladies. it's february ninth and i'm tired.


End file.
